"He wears a mask and his face grows to fit it"
"Shooting an Elephant"
George Orwell
I wanted to name this poem after you
but I call you no name but your own
there is nothing to disguise you under
you are always there
and
you were never here
You were easy to erase
There were no pictures that needed deleting
sure, I kept the letter
but it's not even remotely romantic
save the memories from the night it was written
Be that as it may
I still miss you like crazy
and I know I have no right
you were nothing to me
You made sure of that.
But in the dark of the night I still remember you
your embrace
your laugh
the feeling of you pulling me close.
Something I had never thought you'd do.
This life is a lonely one
which I think we both know.
I cherished the moments with you,
the ones where I felt less alone.
The times I could crawl out of my head,
enjoy the moments.
Laugh without hesitation
But this is a poem to say goodbye.
To let you know;
I'd build a shrine to you
just to blow it up
but I can't do that
because this is New York and space is limited
I often wonder if I should reach out,
imagine a world where you reach out to me
but I stop my brain each time
because this is goodbye.
There's no sense in ruining a thing
that's already been ruined,
something that was once so great
so perfect, even.
All things considered.
So,
goodbye.
I'll think of you singing along to those old songs
under the false blue of the twinkle lights
And no, I didn't love you
but I might've come close